untitled

A single bedside lamp illuminates the corner of my room. The rest is filled with the dusky blue haze of a lazy day turning to night.

The humidity is fresh and cut at times by a slow wafting breeze, like the world breathing in and out.

It was a lazy day with little productivity. But I don’t mind.

Strains of music drifting into my room remind me of dorm-living at home. Almost everything about this moment reminds me of home. It is not a desert humidity, but more like that which comes after the renewal of spring rain on the grass and concrete and water of the lakes.

I am itchy. My skin is moist and clammy, but in a pleasant way. If I breathe deeply and close my eyes, it’s like I never left.

A few moments before, I finished a beautiful book that lends magic to the moment.

The view from my balcony is peaceful. I see my reflection in the glass door and wonder about how much I have changed. For the first time, one more sad month does not seem like enough.